The four ghosts stood still, on the quiet deck. Goldsmith and Hamilton came slowly out from behind the crates and looked around at all the bodies with wide, shell-shocked eyes.
“Pump air back into the bathysphere, you idiots,” said JC. “While there’s still time. And then haul us back up here.”
The scientists nodded jerkily and rushed to obey. After a while, first Happy and Melody, and then Kim and JC faded away, and were gone.
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When the scientists finally brought the bathysphere up out of the waters, and swung it over the side and onto the deck, and opened the air-lock . . . All they found inside were three dead bodies, sitting in their chairs. The sphere was full of perfectly good air, but it had come too late. The Ghost Finders had been without oxygen for too long. Goldsmith and Hamilton took turns hauling the bodies out the air-lock and laying them on the deck, side by side. And then they started CPR. Since there were only two of them, they could only work on two people at a time. They chose JC and Happy because they looked strongest. They didn’t know about Happy’s condition. Goldsmith and Hamilton pounded on chests, breathed air into mouths, and did chest compressions as best they could remember from the brief first-aid course they’d attended ages ago. They did everything they could; and eventually, JC started breathing again.
Happy didn’t.
Goldsmith helped JC sit up. He coughed harshly, struggling for breath, slowly realising where he was. Hamilton gave up on Happy and went to work on Melody. It didn’t help. Hamilton sat down hard on the deck beside Melody’s body, hugged her knees to her chest, and let her head hang down. Goldsmith went over to her and patted her on the shoulder. He didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say.
JC slowly got to his feet and wondered why he was still alive when his friends were dead. Was it because of something the forces from Outside did to him? Or just blind chance. It hurt just as much, either way. And then he realised the spirits of Happy and Melody were standing before him.
“I’m sorry,” said JC. “So sorry.”
“No reason to be,” said Happy.
“None of this was your fault,” said Melody. “We knew what we were getting into.”
Happy smiled easily. “We did the job. Saved the world.”
“Not a bad way to bow out,” said Melody.
“And now it’s time for us to go,” said Happy. “We just wanted to say good-bye.”
Melody smiled fondly at Happy. “I knew he was dying. I’m glad I got to go with him. He’s always hated having to go to strange places on his own.”
“Be seeing you, JC,” said Happy.
They both disappeared, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I’m alone,” said JC. “No-one else left. Just me.”
“You don’t have to be on your own,” said Kim.
JC looked round and saw the ghost girl standing over Natasha Chang. Kim smiled at him.
“We have a chance to be together at last. In the flesh. There’s no soul in Chang’s body. It’s empty. If you want, I could go into it. Take up residence and live a normal human life again, with you.”
“Yes,” said JC. “That’s what I want. For us to be together, finally.”
Kim grinned. “I always knew you secretly fancied her.”
She disappeared. Natasha Chang jerked spasmodically on the deck a few times, then sat up abruptly. She looked at JC.
“I’m here, sweetie,” she said. With Kim’s voice.
“Okay . . .” said JC. “This is going to take a lot of getting used to.”
TWELVE
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MEET THE NEW BOSS, PART TWO
JC Chance sat behind his desk, in what used to be Catherine Latimer’s office, at the back of Buck House. With the authority granted him by the destruction of the Flesh Undying and saving the world, and all the information he was able to provide on the inner workings of Crowley Project Headquarters, and because everyone was now frankly more than a bit frightened of him . . . JC had been put in charge of the Carnacki Institute. He routed the cabal, sorted the good guys from the bad guys and the wheat from the chaff, and soon had everything running smoothly again.
Getting rid of the cabal people had proved surprisingly easy. In the short time they’d been in charge, they’d screwed up a lot of operations and made a great many enemies . . . inside and outside the Institute. Everyone was glad to see them go.
JC had been quietly asked whether he wanted to sign a whole bunch of kill orders . . . but he declined. He didn’t want to be that sort of Boss.
In the office outside his office, Kim had Heather’s old job. As JC’s personal secretary and first line of defence. Sometimes people thought she was still Natasha Chang, and sometimes JC let people think that. It helped keep them on their toes.
He took off his sunglasses, and the fierce golden light from his eyes illuminated the office. It looked a bit bare and spartan, without Latimer’s old trophies . . . but he’d already started a collection of souvenirs from his own old cases. A small black blob, under a glass case. A scarecrow in a morning suit and top hat, standing in the corner, wrapped in silver chains. Just in case. And a rabbit’s foot. That might or might not be the reason he was still alive when so many others had died taking down the Flesh Undying.
JC wondered if he’d live as long as Catherine Latimer, after what the forces from Outside had done to him. He also wondered if they had other plans for him. JC put his sunglasses back on and looked at the paper-work piled up on the desk before him. There was a lot of work to be done.
A lifetime’s worth.
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